Serendipity
by SumRandomPerson12
Summary: Serendipity. Such a word that is not used all that often when one speaks— in fact, it is hardly ever used at all, if you think about it, yet its very definition seems to occur so frequently within our own little busy lives that weave in throughout each other like the strands of a work-in-progress plait. Sometimes, on the very rare occasion, these little strands might meet...


**_(( So I finally remembered the password to this account, therefore I have moved this story over to this account from Endearing-Soliloquy.  
>Enjoy. ))<em>**

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><p>Serendipity.<br>Such a word that is not used all that often when one speaks— in fact, it is hardly ever used at all, if you think about it, yet its very definition seems to occur so frequently within our own little busy lives that weave in throughout each other like the strands of a work-in-progress plait. Sometimes, on the very rare occasion, these little strands might meet; they might tangle, becoming stuck together for all that little while as they wait to free themselves from this mess. Even the strangest of strands and most unlikely to meet can do so on this rare chance. To the one weaving such braids, the outcome from this could be, well, beneficial, or, on the other hand, it could mean nothing but trouble— it could mean the very destruction of the plait, or it could lead to someone more...interesting, more desirable in the end.  
>The only outcome that this very word, serendipity, covers is the good outcomes; the ones that benefit our lives in the merriest, perhaps sweetest of ways, giving us that little boost in our lives or perhaps bringing us that one step closer to finding our goals.<p>

In reality, this plait— these strands— are but people working their ways through their selfish lives that pass around one another and live up to the expectations forced upon them by various others. Even at social events, their focus remains solely on themselves, and they barely bat an eyelash to those who are not drawn in to themselves. Ah, but those around them are no better, now are they? For they, too, mentally keep the focus on themselves— it must be about them; did they look alright? Did they smell pleasant? Why is that lady in the corner receiving so much attention whilst they stand in amongst the large crowd?  
>It is undeniable to say that most, if not all, people think in such a way— me, myself and I...and possibly that significant other, if they were so fortunate.<br>But what event is this most clearly shown at, yet so easily looked over by everyone that attends such a thing?  
>Why, a ball. No, not one hosted by royalty and exclusive to aristocracy, but one in which people from any class could attend if given an invitation; one that allowed all of the different kinds of people to converge into one large palace.<p>

Polished floors reflected the bodies of all that grace it with their steps or weight, lights dotted around on the walls and off of refined metal structures...for such a modern time, the halls looked as though they were restored to their former glory in the times of the great king. Laughter, whispers and obnoxious conversing, all filled the room and resonated ever so slightly; muffling against the surrounding echoes to form what one could call a blur of sound- unable to separate a's from e's and so on. Gowns swished to the side and around the front of ladies' legs as they were lead around the narrow halls by their accompanying partner or slowly danced in the concaves of the halls, the music played by the ensemble located out in the garden maze travelling into the large building softly as if it were but caressing this beautiful palace and setting the mood for such an evening.  
>It was enchanting to say the least, yet as one roamed up to the second floor, the amount of people seemed to cut down by a rather noticeable amount as all wanted to be seen by the people around them and admired for their efforts in trying to impress the other people that had attended. Still equally beautiful as the lower floor- the music only softer-, this was where a certain black-haired boy walked, an unidentifiable look plastered onto his rather pale features as his feet unconsciously forced him to explore this almost desolate floor of such an impressive building.<br>Was he bored?  
>No, not at all... maybe a little.<br>Regardless, this boy continued his trek around the building's upper floor, emerald-green gaze flickering around the halls in a manner that could be called nothing but curious. Admittedly, Brendan knew not why he was here in the first place at this ball, for no-one had accepted his offer in accompanying him to this event, however he still managed to find himself conquering the halls of this piece of history with nothing but stiff and slow strides. He was never one to like wearing anything but his usual, slightly peculiar attire, yet his mentor— Wallace— had somehow managed to convince him to attend this formal event wearing an outfit similar to all of the other males shoved into this one building; a presentable black tuxedo with a white undershirt, a white vest and a deep green tie the same colour as his eyes tied around his neck and under the collar with the slightest bit of slack to allow for breathing. In the pocket of his jacket, akin to the rest of the men from his location, sat a small and white bud of a rose; its stem free of any thorns and leaves tucked into the small attachment in order to add more natural look. Yes, he was dressed rather finely, however, with his white hat absent, Brendan felt a little, well... naked, for his black hair was now exposed to the public. Strange, perhaps, yet it was just how he was.  
>Step by step, the music rolled into a small crescendo as he made his way to the traditionally-designed doors held back by mere metal pins attached to the walls, leading to yet another hall- one that bypassed the balcony that overlooked the magnificent garden- that seemed to have mirrors polished down to the finest shine affixed in the rectangular concaves on the side opposite from the open extension. This palace was a little overwhelming for someone of his type, not liking places as uptight as this, and he wondered what on earth the owner had been thinking when he had built this beautiful place all those years ago; creating an area where even the tallest and most important of people felt like an insignificant worm in comparison to its gold-leaf-covered walls.<p>

Upon finally reaching the hallway, the black-haired boy's head snapped up in partial awe as the candle—lit chandeliers lined the centre of the walkway; each adding their own warm little glow that caressed the floors below and barely brushed against the light grey floor of the balcony on its side- right from where he was standing. The small, metallic decorations hanging down from the lights, the arching of the ceiling over the columns, the way the middle mirrors reflected the night sky...it was breath-taking to put it mildly. It took but a few more moments of standing in complete and utter awe before Brendan quickly shook his head and continued his awkward steps down this hallway, unable to stop his gaze from wandering all over this divinely-built palace. To the mirrors was where locked first, his head turned ever so slightly to the side as he advanced on forwards, the slightest hints of a smile tugging at his lips at the sheer beauty and serenity of this building. The reflection of columns, the reflections of the bushes and stars—all became apparent to him as he progressed, simply adding to the amazing view. From what he could see, the balcony was rather plan, lined with shrubs planted in white pots along the very sides and a young lady standing in the...

Wait, a young lady?

His brow furrowed in confusion at such a sight, his gaze now locked onto the mirror as though it was glued to such a thing, quickening his pace over to the arches that lead out to such a place. Indeed, there was a girl standing at the very edge of the balcony, seemingly hunched over the stone railing in a bored kind of fashion; her shoulders slumped down and her head appeared to rest in her hands. Rather short, wearing a scarlet red dress tinged a reddish-purple by the shade of night, clinging to her petite frame only to blow-out near the end into a mermaid-tail form of dress, and her long honey blonde hair tied up a few centimetres from the end by a single red ribbon tied in a bow. His curiosity taking the better of him, Brendan could not help but take his strides over to the side of this unknown female, using the song played down to a tee by the ensemble to aid his speed of steps. She remained unmoved as he finally caught up to her side, yet her gaze— a grey one, he noted— swung to the side, briefly staring him down before it casted itself back out to the point where the garden and night sky converged to one point.  
>Her skin, why it but a shade that one could only call pale, shining in the presence of the moonlight with a soft sort of glow; one that only further the sheer calmness emigrating from this person in particular. How she had not gone off at him as of yet was something he knew not, yet the boy felt as though he should at least speak up— to provide this enchanting young woman the moment to realise that he was standing there and that his intentions were to not drag her away from the obviously lovely scenery.<br>Well, he would have had she not beaten him to such a thing.

"Alluring, isn't it?" Came this blonde's speech, her tone rivalling the volume of a whisper in comparison to the stringed instruments that played below in the gardens. "I find it so...peculiar that no-one else had decided to come out and bask under the glory of the night sky."  
>Her words- the way she spoke with upmost formality— and her tone— one so gentle as if she was talking to an extremely thin sheet of glass-, it suited the girl almost spot on; it provided her with an edge of elegance yet kept herself interesting to some kind of degree. His emerald gaze simply remained on the girl as she shifted ever so slightly, allowing for her slender fingers to curl over her cheeks in a delicate kind of manner as she muffled a sigh against her lips.<p>

"Tell me; is that your purpose of being here as well?"  
>A moment of hesitation occurred as he paused to think of an answer, until he found himself nodding so very slowly in response to her questioning, even if it was a lie. He allowed for his hands to fall upon the railing, gripping it somewhat tightly as a smile erupted onto his features before words left his mouth without his own approval.<p>

"...Yeah. It is," He mumbled, yet it was only then that he realised how differently he and her sounded in regard to pronunciation as he heard himself speak; his mind ticking away as though he checked off each and every word with a kind of cautiousness, fearing that he might, perhaps freak this poor girl out. A small, slightly amused chuckle sounded from this stranger at his response, and her gaze flickered back over to his form, laying themselves over to his own gaze as though she was indicating that, yes, she was listening to him.

"So you agree with me that the sky is beautiful at this late hour?" The woman inquired once again, a single eyebrow rising as she decided to just test that he had heard herself once more.  
>"Well, yeah...I mean...I don't know..." Was his response, shortly cut off by the boy raising a fist to his lip and coughing into ever so slightly, not exactly sure as to how he was meant to respond to such a question, unknowing as to if she would question him further. Perhaps now was a good time as of any to introduce himself?<p>

"My name's Brendan," At this, the blonde girl simply rose up from her slouched over posture all that tiny bit, standing up slightly more as her hands decided to collapse under her chin and her face returned to a rather neutral position. Her eyes, they held a small gleam to them; one that showed that maybe she was just a little interested in this person that had interrupted her little gazing, maybe she would give this person a chance before she stormed off.  
>"Serena," She responded, her tone but the same as she fully stood up to her full height— admittedly, that was not much higher than she had been before— and held her right hand out to the black-haired boy, her posture now straight as a pole; showing no signs of falter. It was slightly amusing in his eyes that she could change this much from a simple introduction, yet the way she acted, why, it was something new to him, for most of the girls in which he had known back in his location were rather laidback, uncaring to the problems that would occur in the future.<br>Finally shaking himself out of his thoughts, Brendan took the girl's hand in his and shook it but a few times in a gentle kind of grip as though he feared that that skinny hand of hers would shatter into a million pieces in his grasp. This girl— this 'Serena'— was a rather skinny woman...and it was rather worrying to think that she could let herself get to such a state. No, she was still strikingly beautiful, it was just that, well, if she lost any more weight then she would be nothing but skin and bones.

"You have a nice name," She mumbled back in response, a small, gentle smile blooming onto her pale features as she kept her gaze up at the tall boy in which she had met mere moments ago. "Not too simple, not too complex. With such a name, surely everyone would remember it, no? It has a...a charming kind of ring to it, if I might say so myself."  
>"Hm, you think so?" He questioned, a little confused as to why she had not taken her hand away from the grip, but not speaking up on it for the time being, for he honestly did not mind such a thing at the moment. "Well, I guess I should thank you then. You know, if that was meant to be a compliment or—"<br>"—It was," Serena intervened, her voice swinging with a certain kind of positivity in it as she did so. Oh, how awkward this was getting, yet neither dared to let go nor run off, much to the other's surprise. A few moments, brief moments, passed until both fell prey to a wave of quiet, neither speaking up.  
>To her, it was just like any other silence, to him, it was a silence that he did not dislike; finding it comfortable.<br>With her gaze finally shifting away from his, the honey blonde turned back to the railing in which she had leant on before, her grip on his hand unchanging as she stared back out, the lightest tints of red dusting over her cheeks as she did so. He noticed such a thing, and allowed for that smile of his to grow all that more, finding some kind of relief arising within him as he felt her hand remaining on his in what had intended to be a friendly kind of gesture. Once more, he did not question her actions, and simply followed along with her; turning back, scooting over a few steps closer to the girl and bringing their hands up onto the railing as he leant down all that bit more- afraid that his height might make her feel a little uncomfortable.

They stared out to the night sky dotted with the stars that shone and twinkled like little diamonds, the shade of blue up in that part a navy blue that almost fell into black if one toned it down a few more shades of black. Occasionally, Brendan summed the courage to give the girl's hand a small and gentle squeeze as if he was asking if she realised that she was still holding his hand, yet the only response in which he would get each and every time was that same look in which she had given him before.

"You know," She spoke up after a while with a small tightening of her grip on the hand she held. "I...I'm rather fond of this song, Brendan. Would you care for a dance?"

A small laugh muffled against his lips at this— a light one—, before the boy simply stood up once more, tugging on her hand ever so slightly; his eyes shining with a gleam that was not one of annoyance at her offer, but one of a kind of pleased look.

"...With you? It would be an honour."


End file.
